Anton.--I am an honest man.

A servant (enters).--A messenger brought this letter from Miliszewski.

Doctor.--Give it to me. Go (tears the envelop and reads) "Pretwic is dead." (After a while) Ah--

Anton.--Before I go I must answer your question as to why I am going.

I have served you faithfully. I served you like a dog because I believed in you. You knew how to use me, or perhaps to use me up. I knew that I was a tool, but I did not care for that, because--But now--

Doctor.--You give up the public affair?

Anton.--You do not know me. What would I do if I were to give up my ideas? And then, do you think that you personify public affairs? I will not give up because I have been deceived by you. But I care about something else. I was stupid to have cared for you, and I regret now that I must tell you that you have heaped up the measure and used badly the strength which is in you. Oh, I know that perhaps it would be better for me not to tell you this, perhaps to hold with you would mean a bright future for such a man as I, who have hardly the money to buy food for my wife and children. But I cannot. Before G.o.d, I cannot!

I am a poor man and I shall remain poor, but I must at least have a clear conscience. Well, I loved you almost as much as I loved my wife and children, but from to-day you are only a political number--for friendship you must look to some one else. You know I have no scruples; a man rubs among the people and he rubs off many things; but you have heaped up the measure. May I be hanged if I do not prefer to love the people than pound them! They say that honesty and politics are two different things. Elsewhere it may be so, but in our country we must harmonize them. Why should they not go together? I do not give up our ideas, but I do not care for our friendship because the man who says he loves humanity, and then pounds the people threateningly on their heads--that man is a liar; do you understand me?

Doctor.--I shall not insist upon your giving me back your friendship, but you must listen to me for the last time. If there shall begin for me an epoch of calamity, it will begin at the moment when such people as you begin to desert me. The man who was killed was in my way to happiness--he took everything from me. He came armed with wealth, good name, social position, and all the invincible arms which birth and fortune give. With what arms could I fight him? What could I oppose to such might? Nothing except the arms of a new man--that bit of intelligence acquired by hard work and effort. He declared a mute war on me. I have defended myself. With what? With the arms which nature has given me. When you step on a worm you must not take it amiss if the worm bites you; he cannot defend himself otherwise. It is the law of nature. I placed everything on one card, and I won--or rather it is not I, but intelligence which has conquered. This force--the new times--have conquered the old centuries. And you take that amiss? What do you want? I am faithful, to the principle. You are retreating. I am not! That woman is necessary for my happiness because I love her. I need her wealth and her social position for my aims. Give me such weapons and I will accomplish anything. Do you know what an enormous work and what important aims I have before me? You wish me to tear down the wall of darkness, prejudice, laziness, you wish me to breathe new life into that which is dead. I cry: "Give me the means." You do not have the means, therefore I wish to get them, or I shall perish.

But what now? Across the road to my plans, to my future--not only mine but everybody's--there stands a lord, a wandering knight, whose whole merit lies in the fact that he was born with a coat of arms. And have I not the right to crush him? And you wish me to fall down on my knees before him? Before his lordship--to give up everything for his sake?

No! You do not know me. Enough of sentiment. A certain force is necessary and I have it, and I shall make a road for myself and for all of you even if I should be obliged to trample over a hundred such as Pretwic.

Anton.--No, Jozwowicz, you have always done as you wanted with me, but now you cannot do it. As long as there was a question of convictions I was with you, but you have attacked some principles which are bigger than either you or I, more stable and immutable. You cannot explain this to me, and you yourself must be careful. At the slightest opportunity you will fall down with all your energy as a man. The force you are attacking is more powerful than you are. Be careful, because you will lose. One cannot change a principle: straight honesty is the same always. Do what you please, but be careful. Do you know that human blood must always be avenged? It is only a law of nature.

You ask me whether I am going to leave you? Perhaps you would like to be given the right to fire on the people from behind a fence when it will suit you. No, sir. From to-day there must be kept between us a strict account. You will be a member of parliament, but if you think we are going to serve you, and not you us, you are greatly mistaken.

You thought that the steps of the ladder on which you will ascend are composed of rascals? Hold on! We, who have elected you--we, in whose probity you do not believe--we will watch you and judge you. If you are guilty we will crush you. We have elected you; now you must serve.

Doctor (pa.s.sionately).--Anton!

Anton.--Quiet. In the evening you must appear before the electors.

Good-bye, Mr. Jozwowicz. (He goes out.)

Doctor (alone).--He is the first.

SCENE VI.

Jozwowicz. Jan Miliszewski.

Jan (appears in the half-open door).--Pst!

Doctor.--Who is there?

Jan.--It is I, Miliszewski. Are you alone?

Doctor.--You may enter. What then?

Jan.--Everything is over. He did not live five minutes. I have ordered them to carry the body to Miliszewo.

Doctor.--Your mother is not here?

Jan.--I sent her to the city. To-day is election day and mamma does not know that I have withdrawn, therefore she will wait for the evening papers in the hope that she will find my name among those elected.

Doctor.--Did no one see?

Jan.--I am afraid they will see the blood. He bled dreadfully.

Doctor.--A strange thing. He was such a good marksman.

Jan.--He permitted himself to be killed. I saw that very plainly. He did not fire at Drahomir at all. He did not wish to kill Drahomir. Six steps--it was too near. It was dreadful to look at his death. Truly, I would have preferred to be killed myself. They had to fire on command--one! two! three! We heard the shot, but only one. We rushed--Pretwic advanced two steps, knelt and tried to speak. The blood flowed from his mouth. Then he took up the pistol and fired to one side. We were around him and he said to Drahomir: "You have done me a favor and I thank you. This life belonged to you, because you saved it. Forgive me," he said, "brother!" Then he said: "Give me your hand" and expired. (He wipes his forehead with a handkerchief.) Drahomir threw himself on his breast--it was dreadful. Poor Princess Stella. What will become of her now?

Doctor.--For G.o.d's sake, not a word in her presence. She is ill.

Jan.--I will be silent.

Doctor.--You must control your emotion.

Jan.--I cannot. My knees are trembling.

SCENE VII.

The same. The prince leaning on Stella's shoulder, and Mrs. Czeska.

Prince.--I thought Pretwic was with you. Jozwowicz, where is Pretwic?

Doctor.--I do not know.

Stella.--Did he tell you where he was going?

Doctor.--I know nothing about it.

Czeska (to Jan).--Count, what is the matter with you? You are so pale.

Jan.--Nothing. It is on account of the heat.

Prince.--Jozwowicz, Pretwic told me--

SCENE VIII.

(The door opens suddenly. Countess Miliszewska rushes in).

Countess.--Jan, where is my Jan? O G.o.d, what is the matter? How dreadful!

Doctor (rushing toward her).--Be silent, madam.

Stella.--What has happened?

Countess.--Then you have not killed Pretwic? You have not fought?

Doctor.--Madam, be silent.